


Leather to Her Lace

by GetasGirl_x



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Bikers, Crimes & Criminals, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Lawyers, Motorcycles, Organized Crime, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GetasGirl_x/pseuds/GetasGirl_x
Summary: Bulma is a career driven woman, a high powered attorney and she was just handed over a new caseload, one that was deeply rooted in organized crime, yet connected to a man that both reignites her passion, yet infuriates her to no end.Vegeta ‘Prince’ Breigh is the president of the Oozaru’s Fury MC. He’s no stranger to run ins with the law, hell it had always been the way of his life, its how you make statements, but his latest charge has him facing possible time. Lucky for him, the  club always keeps an attorney on retainer, but their expected one doesn’t show up, instead a fiery blue haired hellcat is dropped into his world. She’s got him questioning all his rules, and to make matters worse his club is on the brink of a turf war with the Icejins.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Chi-Chi/Son Goku (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 95





	1. Chapter 1

With nothing to do but stare at the same four grey walls, Vegeta started to take in the miniscule details, like the paint chipping off due to age or previous inmates who had scraped at it overtime. Reaching out, he grabbed a peeling piece and began crushing it between his forefinger and thumb. Sighing out loud, he leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes drifting closed. Fuck, he’d grown tired of this place and he’d only been here for the better part of of the last week. _Still too fucking long._ It wasn’t the first time he’d done time for his club, nor would it likely be the last, but one would never get used to being caged like an animal. No, he was meant to be on the open road, breathing in the freedom and being surrounded by his brothers. _Yet,_ here he was.

The sounds of approaching footsteps echoed through the halls as a guard came into view, stopping in front of his cell. 

“Inmate, hands where I can see them, and then place them right here,” the guard instructed, as he pointed to the open slot in between the bars.

Vegeta pushed off the wall and moved towards the cell door while keeping his hands in plain sight. Once he put his wrists through the slot, the guard moved forward and placed the cuffs on his wrists. As he did this, he looked up to meet Vegeta’s intense gaze, smirked, and then squeezed, tightening the cuffs until they were biting into the flesh of his wrists. 

Vegeta didn’t even flinch, no instead he smirked while a low chuckle left his lips. He searched the guards face, taking in his features and then right there on his chest, his badge number laid. _Bingo._ Nobody fucks with an Oozaru. Instead he tilted his head to each side, cracking his neck before asking, “Are you going to escort me now?”

Visibly he saw the guards face paled. _Pussy._

Stepping back, he heard the click, followed by a buzz as the magnetic door came to life and slid open for him. With no other choice than to keep his wrists bound together with little give, he moved to the opening of the cell. The guard reluctantly led him through the halls, guided by his elbow, until they came to an opened door, leading into another small stuffy room. More grey, no wonder people went insane inside the pen. 

The room housed a small bolted down metal table, with a matching chair on either side. He twisted his head, looking back over his shoulder and saw the guard backing out of the door, and then closing it behind him. Vegeta took the opportunity and sat down in one of the empty chairs with a grunt. Slumping back into the chair, he started to bob his foot impatiently. He had been waiting over the weekend for the club’s attorney to pay him a visit and work his magic to finally get him out of here. 

On the opposite wall of where he just came through, an adjoining door began to open. A guard stepped through first, then gestured with his hand for the person behind him to step through. A _she_ entered. Where the hell was the club lawyer? And who was she? 

The guard and woman exchanged words quietly, before the guard nodded and exited the room, leaving him and the woman alone. It was on the tip of Vegeta’s tongue to ask her who she was and why the hell she was here, but then she faced him fully, her azure eyes piercing through him, leaving him with no other option than to drink her in. 

Her hair bobbed with every step she took towards the table, the colouring matching the carribean ocean and long enough, that it danced across the top of her breasts. _Long enough to wrap his fist around as he drove into her from behind._ Speaking of those, they were being perfectly sculpted by a white lace camisole, that also showed off her small waist that gave way to her not so narrow hips, which were being encased by high waisted navy pants, making her legs look a mile long. She was every teenager's wet dream, a real pinup model. 

_Cuntstruck_

He was so fucked. There was no other word to describe what he was feeling right now. All he knew is that he needed to find a way to get this vixen into his bed. Fuck, it wouldn’t be hard, pussy always threw itself at his brothers and himself, especially when they found out he was the President of his club. 

Shifting in his seat, he reached down to adjust his growing hard on, before he rested his elbows on the table, leaning into where she just took a seat, opposite of him. 

“Where is Shinan?”

“He’s been indisposed, but I’ve been instructed to take over by him,” she says as she scoots into the table, the metal scraping along the floor. 

He regarded her for a moment, looking for the sincerity in her features and gave her a nod to continue. 

He watched as she bent down, sifting through her briefcase, while also giving him a generous eyeful of her cleavage that was nearly falling out of her top, testing the durability of the lace. “Christ,” he muttered to himself. 

She bounced up quickly with a manila folder, clutched between her dainty fingers. “What was that?” she questioned, as she gave him a knowing smirk. 

Well fuck. Caught in the act. _Oh well._

Flipping his file open in front of him, he watched her browse the page and then tap it with a pointed finger. “So, Mr. Breigh, let’s get started--”

“Prince.” 

Her nose scrunched at the same time her eyes narrowed in on him and fuck, who knew she could go from pinup to adorable within seconds. Her eyes darted down to his file, surely double checking his name. 

“Why Prince? It says your name is Vegeta Breigh,” she asked.

“It’s my road name,” he answered with a shrug, then leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, making the chain taunt from the cuffs.

“Right, Vegeta then,” she sassed, and boy did it get his heart racing. Not many people took it upon themselves to counter his words, hell, they were as good as law in his world. Yet this slip of a woman had no qualms about it. He found he didn’t mind, in fact he wanted to know more about her. How her skin flushed when he brought her to heights of extscay. How her lips parted with a moan slipping passed them as he drove into her. Her on the back of his bike.

Wait, what the fuck? Absolutely not. He would never take an Old lady. 

“Gotta name, Blue?” 

“You can call me Ms. Briefs, Bulma Briefs. Now can we continue? I’ve gone over your charges and you’re currently looking at battery, but I see from your version of the story that it was in self defence? Can you elaborate on that?” she asked as she slipped a pen from her bag and turned over to a fresh page. 

“What do you want me to say? He was in our territory, ran his mouth and put his hands on OFMC property. He had it coming,” he confessed nonchalantly as if it was no big deal at all. 

“OFMC? Is this your gang’s name?” 

“Club. We aren’t some low level punks, we’re a brotherhood,” he corrected, stretching his neck to the left and then the right before he focused back on her.

Dropping her pen on the table, she closed the folder and clasped her hands together, setting her elbows down on the table. Then she gave him a smile that screamed she was seconds from losing her patience and he found he liked that too. 

“Club, my sincerest apologies, Vegeta,” she enunciated purposely, then continued, “Look, a judge isn’t going to want to hear that somebody's nose was broken, oh and did I read their arm too?” she tilted her head in question, before opening the folder back up and pointing to the police report, where it did indeed state the other man’s injuries. “Because they were in the wrong territory, or ‘ran their mouth’,” she said as she did air quotations. “Do you see the problem Mr. Breigh. Let’s not forget this was done in front of other civilians at a local bar?”

“Have the owners forward their bill to the club. As far as that Icejin prick goes, it was self defence simple,” he said as he attempted to spread his arms, as if the answer was really just that simple.

“No, it’s not that simple. Judges like to make examples of gangs--

“Club.”

“Club, sure. They like to make examples of them. I can’t claim innocence or defense, that would be insulting. The best I can do is ask for leniency, a reduced sentence with a hefty fine. Community hours, so forth. I also read through your file and see you’re the business owner of ‘Final Flash Fitness’. I can use that angle, saying you’re an upstanding business owner who made a misguided decision, but learned from it and it won’t be repeated.” 

Well shit. Although he wasn’t totally on board with her plan, he had to admit it could’ve been worse and she clearly came prepared. Colour him impressed. From here she was looking like the total package. _I’d love to get into her pants._

A single manicured brow raised on her face as a smirk graced her features. “Well, that can be arranged. I’ll have them dry cleaned and sent over to your address. I personally think you’d look good in blue,” she sassed, tilting her head as she studied his body. Even in a jumpsuit, she could still make out every detail of muscle on him.

God Damn. Vegeta hadn’t realized he had verbalized his thoughts out loud, yet she didn’t seem totally put off. No in fact, yet again she gave back to him, what he dished out. Meeting him at every step, with ease.

“Well, I think that’s it. I’ll see you tomorrow morning in the courtroom. Just, don’t speak. Leave it up to me. Just sit there and be all broody,” she said. 

She sooted the chair back, and started to pack away the items on the table into her briefcase. “By the way, when I do get you out of this, and I will, you have to behave.” 

“Sorry blue, but no can do. Statements have to be made and we do have enemies who need to be taught lessons, got me?” 

“God, you’re infuriating. If you truly want out of this, you’re going to have to play nice for a while, lay low. Or your ass can be tossed back in here and I won't be here to help you out again, got me?” 

A true smile grew on Vegeta’s face. He couldn’t wait to get out of here and see what she was like sans clothes. She promised to be a little hellcat, no doubt. She was all his, and she didn’t even fully know it yet. That’s okay, he liked a challenge. He could be a patient man. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Smiling back at him, she spun around and knocked on the door. When the guard opened it, she strode out with a swish of her hips, giving him a perfect view of her ripe peach shaped ass. Groaning, he slumped in the chair and ran his hand through his hair, and then again had to readjust himself. 

Yup, he was fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

_Free to go._

Those words echoed in his mind, and hell if it didn’t feel good. Real good.

Earlier when Vegeta was escorted to the courthouse, he wasn’t sure what the outcome would be. He only had Bulma’s word that she would appeal for leniency. The little hellcat that was occupying his mind since he met her, seemed so sure of her plan. He made a mental note to look into her later. He wanted to know everything about her, both personal and career wise, especially if she might become the new club attorney. _Maybe, more._

And, there his mind went, a-fucking-gain. Christ, the sooner he got out of here, the sooner he could sink into her, and be done with this growing infatuation. However, he had to be smart about it. Couldn’t just fuck her and leave her, not with her being possibly the new club attorney. Fuck. Then again, he had no doubt that during their back and forth banter, it was her form of flirting too, a battle of wills. Definitely an appealing trait, among other obvious assets, ones she had no qualms about using to her advantage and even looked pleased as she caught him eyeing her. Still, he wasn’t used to the onslaught of emotions she was pulling from him, it was new and had him feeling uneasy. 

He was no stranger to strong women, as he grew up in the club with a few older members who had old ladies, like a village they all came together to raise him and his cousins. He learned to always protect them, to respect them, but growing up in the club also meant he had easy access to pussy like a revolving door. Women threw themselves at him and his brothers, some seeking a thrill and quick fuck that would upset their fathers, some seeking protection from the club, while some were willing to entertain any brother, hoping their snatch would ensnare one until they became an ol’ lady. With ulterior motives like that, he refused to settle down, or feel trapped. Instead he chose to take pleasure and ensure he gave it too, but that’s where it ended, over the years faces blended together. But now, this slip of a woman, had him questioning his decisions. What it would be like to take an ol’ lady, a woman that was exclusively his. 

He couldn’t deny that when she stood in front of the judge and pleaded in his favour, he was impressed. She took control over the room, all eyes on her in her little red skirt number, once again showing off her curves, but it was more than sexual appeal. It was her overall personality, the fact she was as quick as a whip and unyielding when faced with the judges’ hesitation. Even the conviction in her words had him believing he was going to go home to lay down his cut and be nothing but a law abiding citizen. She was just that good. So yup, he felt fucked since he met her, and he was thinking this wasn’t a feeling that was going to go away any time soon. But, the judge only had to believe her, which reluctantly, very reluctantly, he allowed Vegeta to qualify for time served, as long as he stayed out of his jurisdiction, committed to community service and paid $10,000 in restitution for hospital bills, which was nothing to his club. Yeah, he was thinking that Bulma would be a permanent fixture. 

Fuck.

Running a hand through his hair, he looked down at the pile of clothes and belongings he had just placed on the small bench, in an even smaller room. _Time to get his shit together._ First, he removed the god awful jumper, and then threw on a pair of faded jeans, followed by a white henley that clung to his muscles and accentuated his honey toned skin, along with tattoos that started on his hands, and then snaked their way up both his arms, fanning out to his back and chest. Sliding his feet into a pair of combat boots, he then laced them up and looked down to his cut. His eyes gazed over the patches, one signifying his position, the club name and his own road name. Between the cut and his bike, nothing aside from his brothers meant more to him. They held paramount significance to him, portraying his club, his freedom, and the power he held. 

Once his cut was on, he reached into the pockets of his jeans and felt for his rings, which thankfully hadn’t been removed. He slid those on and then stepped towards the exit and rapped his knuckles against the door, letting the cop know on the other side he was finished. 

He was then guided to the entrance of the building, where he would have to sign release paperwork before departing. During his walk it hadn’t gone without his notice, the attention he was getting from the other officers they had passed. More like sneers as they eyed him from head to toe, or zeroed in on his cut. _Let them look,_ he thought before a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

Then from the corner of his eyes, he saw red and blue. 

Bulma was busy talking to one of the clerks, which gave him a moment more to appreciate her red skirt which looked painted on and stopped just above her knees. She had donned a white blouse with the buttons open, revealing just a hint of her breasts, which was tucked into the top of the skirt, then pairing it with a pair of nude heels. It took everything in him not to picture her naked with just those heels on, hitched over his shoulders. Fuck, he would allow her to walk all over him as long as she wore those shoes. 

“There you are, Mr. Breigh. Come sign these documents so you are able to leave freely,” Bulma said as she spun around to see him making his way towards her. 

“Vegeta,” he corrected, as he moved to her side and looked down at the documents. He found he didn’t much care for her calling him by his road name. Wasn’t personal enough. “Do I really need to read through these?” he questioned, before grabbing one of the pens on the counter and started signing through. He figured she wouldn’t allow him to sign anything that would later bite him in the ass. 

“Nope, just go ahead,” she said and then looked up to the clerk, adding, “Alright. I’m off, thanks for seeing Mr.Breigh out.” She then looked over to him, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you or one of your, what did you call them? Brothers, again,” she smarted off before spinning around and heading towards the exit. 

Fuck no. 

Vegeta quickly signed through the remaining paperwork, submitted it and then tailed after Bulma. 

“Hellcat, wait up.”

Noticing she visibly stiffened before she picked up her pace, well as much as she could in her heels. He couldn’t help but let a small laugh leave his lips, before he doubled his speed. 

“Blue.”

“I’ve got a name, Prince,” she sassed out over her shoulder, but it was too late, because her step faltered and before she went careening into the ground, his hands wrapped around her waist and drew her in close.

“Hmm, what was that hellcat? Should be thanking me,” he said as he chuckled, pulling her even closer and no, it hadn’t escaped him how she molded into his body, perfectly, like her curves were meant just for him. 

Then giving truth to the nickname he coined her with, she spun around in his arms, placing her hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away. Useless, really, because it was like trying to move a boulder. This only seemed to further spark her irritation as her eyes flashed with defiance and narrowed dangerously at him. 

“Thank you?” she said incredulously, as she removed her hands from his shoulders and crossed them under her chest. 

“You’re welcome babe, but I would’ve preferred a kiss for my chivalry,” he prodded, waiting to see her reaction. 

Bulma’s eyes widened as she scoffed at the gall of this man. “Yeah? _baby_ , well you can kiss my ass,” she countered and quirked her brow up. 

His lips lifted upwards at her remark. Yeah, he’d bite, figuratively and legitimately if she wanted. Bending down, he leaned in close to her ear so when he spoke, his breath would feather against her. “Gladly, name the place,” he husked.

At that comment, she felt both appalled and _intrigued?_ She definitely wasn’t immune to his charms or his badass persona, then again it was no persona, he was the real deal. She allowed herself a moment to take in his appearance. His eyes had been the first thing she noticed about him. They were the colour of raven’s feathers and carried an air of mystery to them, effectively captivating her. Then there were his tattoos, an abundance of them, trailing his arms and disappearing into his henley that had been pushed up to his elbows. Then of course she noted the way his shirt adhered to his muscles, ones that seemed endless and stacked on eachother, proving that he must’ve spent a lot of his spare time in his gym, not just running it. Then her mind imagined the way they would ripple as he maneuvered her however he wanted. And god, did she want it in that moment too.

Nope, she couldn’t allow herself to go there. He was on the wrong side of the law. She shook herself mentally at the images his words put into her head. 

“We're not going there. Not now, not ever,” she stated, sticking to her guns. 

He started to chuckle. Yup, just chuckled at her statement, as if it held no weight. 

“Yeah hellcat, you tell yourself that, but your nipples straining against your shirt tell a different story. I’ll let your mind get used to the idea first, but we’re going to happen. No two ways about it, get me?” he asked, causing her breath to hitch and as he drew back to look at her face, his stubble brushing lightly against her cheek. 

“Well shit, introduce me Prez,” a voice from behind called out.

And just like that, as quickly as they got lost in eachother, they were brought back to reality. 

Begrudgingly, Vegeta fought against rolling his eyes and slowly released Bulma and turned around to see his Sergeant at arms waiting for him. 

Impeccable timing. 

“This is Ms. Briefs. She’s taken on my case for Mr. Shinan. She’s going to be the new club attorney and she’s off limits,” he gritted that last part out, hoping he’d take the hint. But, no, that son of a bitch started grinning ear to ear before stepping right up to Bulma, taking her hand and placing a kiss across her knuckles. 

“They call me Rooster, you need something, let me know. I mean it, _anything_.”

Bulma’s brows shot right up, then she looked between Vegeta and _Rooster_ before asking, “Rooster? Why? I mean, I can understand other names, but this…,” she asked, her words trailing off quietly as she thought more on it. Her eyes then scanned between the two and she immediately started seeing the similarities between them. Family possibly? Cousins? Brothers? She wasn’t sure, but they had the same skin tone, and both had tattoos for days. However Rooster clearly had a lot of hair as it was currently hanging down low, past his shoulders. It was sleek and could easily make any woman jealous, or simply want to run her hands through it. Hell, even she was tempted for a moment. 

This time Vegeta did roll his eyes. Here we go. He was going to have to teach Rooster a damn lesson, one he wouldn’t forget anytime soon, then again, if it was any other women, would he care? But he didn’t want to answer that right now. 

Leaning in closer, Rooster beamed at her, “It’s because the ladies love my big cock, so naturally,” he mused, while shrugging his shoulders and giving her a playful wink. 

“Right, so not going to call you that, and I so didn’t want to imagine--”

“Don’t even think about him. His name is Raditz. I’ll call you later, and don’t forget what I said hellcat,” Vegeta all but growled out at her, before turning away and walking off with Raditz. 

Riiiiiight. She didn’t get paid enough to deal with this. 

****  
Alone in a dark corner, Vegeta sat and watched over the scene in the clubhouse. His brothers and a few hang arounds were gathered around drinking, shooting the shit and enjoying the women who were barely clothed and dancing provocatively. A typical saturday night for everyone, normally he’d find himself engaging with the others, even taking a woman back to one of the rooms, but he’d been off his game. All because of a particular blue haired woman. 

It had been nearly two weeks since he last saw her, and he still had yet to get her alone. When he would text with her, she would keep it short and professional, giving him the slip. He did not like it, not one fucking bit. 

He hadn’t even touched another woman since he’d been out, and at this point his sour mood had been noticed by his brothers. It’s not like he hadn’t tried, but apparently his dick had other plans. An issue he had never before faced. Something else he was finding he didn’t like. 

That shit changed right now. 

A blonde haired woman named Launch had been eyeing him all night, dancing on one of the tables and swaying her breasts around, that were barely contained in her bikini top. Normally she was sall over Rooster, but she had been known to get a wild hair and go for other brothers, especially when they started bickering with each other. She wanted more, but he wasn’t ready, a feeling Vegeta knew all too well. He wasn’t even into blondes, but lately he wasn’t into any woman. All he saw was blue. 

He beckoned her over with a nod and waited. 

“How can I serve you Prince,” she drawled sultrily, as she bent over, giving him an eyeful of her perky tits. 

The voice was wrong, too rough and that of someone who had spent too many years smoking. _Too bad._ He just needed to get it over with. 

He stood from his spot and grabbed her hand, then led her to one of the private rooms. 

Once they were inside, he walked over to one of the chairs and turned around and reached for the zipper on his pants. “On your knees.”

Instantly, she dropped to her knees in front of him and looked up at him with pouty lips, waiting. Her hands found purchase on his thighs and stroked upwards until she got to his zipper, and started assisting him. 

He wasn’t even hard, not even close, so he closed his eyes and allowed images of Bulma and her voluptuous curves to enter his mind. That of course worked, until it didn’t. He felt hands wrap around his cock, and the image was shattered and he jerked away from her. 

Before she could say anything he told her not to say a fucking word and stomped off until he found his way to his own room in the clubhouse. 

Once inside, he locked his door and made his way to the shower. Turning it on until it ran hot, he walked back out and placed his cut on a chair and then proceeded to strip out of the rest of the clothes. When he entered the bathroom again he took a minute to look at himself in front of the mirror, and he couldn’t even recognize himself. He never got spun over pussy before, what made her any different. _But you already know that._ His mind taunted him, again for the hundredth time. 

Stepping inside the shower stall he felt the water cascade over him, immediately allowing his muscles to loosen. Grabbing a hold of the soap bar, he dragged it across his body, leaving a trail of suds, hiding his tattoos. He never really thought about them before, but now he was questioning if it was something _she_ would like. He had always prided himself on his physique and when he wasn’t with the club, or on his bike, he was managing his business and then taking advantage by working out in it every day. 

Thoughts of her had his cock stirring again, demanding relief. Gliding his hand down his current soaped body, he fisted the base of his dick and began stroking slowly. He put the soap down and placed his free hand against the shower wall, allowing the water to flow down his back while propping himself up. Still moving at a slow pace, he stroked upwards and squeezed at the base of his head, allowing his thumb to graze the underside of the notch where a barbel sat. _Had she ever fucked someone with a piercing?_ He’d hope not, he wanted to be her first. He envisioned what it would be like to run the tip of his cock through her folds, pressing it against her clit and swirling the piercing there. Would she be loud as her pussy pulsed around him? Would she moan his name repeatedly like a prayer? 

Losing himself in thoughts of her, he began pumping faster, squeezing tighter. 

What did she have on under that red tight skirt? Swallowing thickly, he imagined the way her nipples pebbled, simply over his words. Would the lace against her cunt be soaked, thinking of him bending her over, letting his tongue glide up the back of her thighs and only stopping to leave bruising kisses, before plunging into her depths. 

His hand against the wall once flat, now strained as he tried to grip the flat surface. 

“Fuckkkk.”

He started to feel all the pent up frustration come to a boiling point, so he speeds up his ministrations and images Bulma on her knees for him with her tongue out, waiting to taste all he had to offer. 

Grunting, he felt his body shudder as his cum shoots out, coating the shower wall. Slowing down, he squeezes to empty himself completely before he removes his hand to finish cleaning himself off. 

Since he’d last seen her, every orgasm was by his own hand, and more fulfilling than the next, but also left him longing to be inside her. 

He needed to change that too.

Finishing his shower, he toweled off and made his way into his room to throw on a tshirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. He didn’t feel like facing anybody, so he picked up his phone to shoot Rooster a text to come up to his room with a bottle of Jack.

Not even five minutes later, he heard a knock at the door and made his way over, first unlocking it, then opening it to allow his cousin inside. 

“What’s your deal?”

“The fuck do you mean?” he asked as grabbed the bottle from him, then turned around and made his way to his bed to sit on the edge. 

“You’ve been nothing but a fucking prick since that lawyer chick. Just fuck her already. Or can’t you?” Raditz taunted. 

A snarl left Vegeta’s mouth and it took everything in him not to throw a punch. 

“Kind of hard, when she’s been avoiding me.”

“Well fuck, is that it? Let’s fix that. Give me her number right now.”

Vegeta looked up at his cousin and thought about it for a moment, but decided why not? What did he have to lose? So, he went into his phone and read out the number and watched as Raditz typed away on his phone, hit send and then smiled at him.

“Showtime.”

***

Bulma was at home in her bed with a glass of wine in hand and her laptop, reading through upcoming cases. Trying not to think about a certain tatt’d biker.

_Ding_

Her eyes moved away from the screen and looked over to her phone, she then reached out and sat her glass on her night table and then grabbed her phone to see who had texted. 

_Unknown Number: Listen Blue, It’s Rooster. Prince is in some serious shit and he needs your expertise. We need you at the clubhouse._

Attached was also an address. 

Bulma threw her head back, hitting the headboard and sighed out loudly.

Marvelous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legend of the OFMC so far:  
> Name Road Name  
> Vegeta Prince  
> Raditz Rooster  
> Terms:  
> Cut = Biker’s vest.  
> ***
> 
> Thank you for reading as always.  
> The support is always appreciated!  
> Feel free to follow me on Twitter : @GetasgirlX


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **MC TERMS:**  
>  Name/Road Name  
> Vegeta/Prince= Bloodline is the founder of the MC.  
> Raditz/ Rooster= ;) Lady given name for a certain appendage.  
> Nappa/Tiny= Given name by his brothers to rouse him.  
> Goku/Stryker = Fighting skills.  
> Broly/Tank = Fighting skills, ability to take hits with little to no effect.  
> Turles/Chains = Refuses to be chained down to anything, was a nomad prior.
> 
> Terms:  
> Cut = Biker’s vest.  
> Sweet butts = women that hang around, or live at the club house. Property of the club. Willing to sleep with members for housing, or protection.

Clutching her phone to her chest, Bulma kept her eyes closed as she silently cursed herself. Here she was, a grown woman having an internalized crisis over what to wear to see a man, albeit a very hot man, one who was dripping in sex appeal while also being all deliciously wrapped in leather and tattoos. No other client, let alone - a man, had made her feel so conflicted. 

For the hundredth time she questioned her decision in taking on the position as the Club's attorney, but when Mr. Shinan had called her two days ago, offering it to her as a permanent gig, it seemed like a no brainer. It would keep her on her toes, and continue to build her reputation within her field as a well adjusted defence attorney. But now, the minute Raditz had sent her a text letting her know that _he_ was in trouble, yet again, she started questioning her rash decision. She figured she’d have more time before facing him, before feeling the chemistry that sizzled in the air around them. 

No such luck.

Groaning, she tossed her phone to the side and forced herself to sit up and make her way over to her closet. She stood there taking an inventory of her expansive collection of clothes, mostly appropriate for the courtroom, but she had more than a few pieces that would make any man pant after her. Maybe that’s what she would do, flip the tables on him. Lolling her head to the side, she absentmindedly began sifting through her clothes, rack to rack. A multitude of colours stared back at her, but what would do? 

A little black dress? They had never failed her before. But, no that wouldn’t do, especially if the police could potentially be there. Raditz had been very vague in his responses to her, just that she needed to come. She was going in totally blind.

Then she saw it, a candy apple red jumper that was tight on her ass and had a deep plunging neckline, showing plenty of clevage and side boob. Pairing that with strappy heels, she had no doubt he’d be eating out of the palm of her hands. 

Taking the jumper and a pair of heels, she walked over to her bed to set them down. Then she moved her hands to the bottom of her satin negligee and pulled it up and over her head, tossing it on the bed, leaving her completely bare. Earlier she had set out a black lace bra and panty set, but right now she was feeling bold and decided to forego any undergarments. Could this possibly backfire against her? Sure. She knew that, but somewhere in the back of her mind she was thrilled. It would be her little dirty secret. She had spent her life being the good girl, always being in control, just once she wanted to be bad, bad for him. 

She padded to her bathroom to spruce up her hair, adding loose curls, giving it a freshly fucked look. Then proceeded with very light makeup before she made her way back to her room to slide into her outfit. 

Once all dressed, she walked to the front door, grabbing a jacket and placing it over her arm, just in case. Then she plucked her keys from a ceramic bowl on the table by her door and her briefcase that leaned against it. As she opened the door, she caught her own reflection in the mirror and couldn't help but smirk. 

_Game on Vegeta._

***

A dinging sound cut through the silence, alerting Bulma of her final turn before she would be arriving at the clubhouse. It was on the edge of town, away from prying eyes. Something she was sure was done purposefully. Not even five minutes prior, she had found herself driving through the suburbs with cookie-cutter style homes which gave way to an open road where few houses stood, mostly country homes that had vast amounts of land.

Flicking her blinker up, she rolled to a stop sign and continued to make a right turn. Then she saw it, in huge glowing red neon lights, _SnakeWay._ The place had sort of a rustic appeal with wooden pillars decorating the front. Her attention was then pulled to a group of men who were standing around their motorcycles. Their arms waving, spilling beer in the process as they boisterously spoke amongst themselves. She noted they were wearing the same vests Vegeta and Raditz had donned the last time she saw them. However, this time she was able to get a better look at the emblem on the back. 

The patch was made up of a giant picture of what looked like a man or beast, she wasn’t entirely sure. The features were bigger than a typical man’s face, maybe one that was transforming into a demonic creature with red eyes sewn in and elongated fangs. Above the creature's forehead was a symbol that looked like a stretched ‘U’ shape. Each side ended in points with one arrowhead sticking out of the bottom, in the middle. Directly in the middle just above, were two solid horizontal lines. Above that were three arrows shooting off, mimicking the head of a trident. Not knowing what the symbol meant, she made a mental note to ask Vegeta later. Underneath both emblems sat a ribbon that read out _’Oozaru’s Fury MC’._

The effect of their vest was instantaneous, one that gave a don’t-fuck-with-us vibe, sending a clear message to those who threatened to cross them. Reminding her of the world she was stepping into, treading a fine line between ethical rules and a world where laws became blurred. Tempting fate and everything she had worked for, yet she couldn’t deny the pull, the undeniable attraction she felt for him, for this, for relinquishing some control, playing both sides. The only question that remained is - would she survive it? 

With that last thought, Bulma had pulled into a parking spot off to the side, shrouded in darkness. She figured it was a safe bet, being who she was to the club now. Gathering her courage and wits - which would both be needed - she grabbed her briefcase, opting to leave the coat behind and exited her vehicle. 

As her heels echoed across the pavement she realized that the men that had been talking prior, were now quiet. Their eyes lingered over her form. She gave her best smile, before she entered.

Upon pushing the door open, the hinges squealed, giving way to its true age, but was quickly silenced through a wall of classic rock pumping through the atmosphere. First her gaze took in the bar against the back, that had a wall of amber liquid in various sizes and coloured bottles, again with neon lights overhead, adding to the eclecticism of the decor. To her left sat two pool tables that looked well used and had a few members surrounding them. 

She then glanced to her right, noticing a few tables off to the side, and on one wall, a couch was pushed against it with a tv mounted on on the adjacent wall. It looked like a giant bachelor pad, even donning posters of pinup models and motorcycles. Members were gathered around the tables, drinking and carrying on, occasionally their laughter cut through the music. The smell of cigarettes fragranced the room; lingering swirls snaked around the crowd and their conversations.

Women in slinky outfits clung to the sides of some of the members, batting their lashes and hanging onto every word like a little trophy. Near the couch, a woman was currently dancing with a set of bejeweled pasties and a thong. Her hips swung to the music fluidly, before she climbed onto a man’s lap and started withering against him while groping her own breasts. Bulma couldn’t help but watch, appreciating the woman’s curves and confidence and the attention she commanded. But of course, as she really took in the scene, she could feel a trickle of doubt set in. Is this the life that Vegeta and Rooster led everyday? Could she really fit in. No, probably not - but could one night really hurt?

Speaking of the devil, she heard a voice call out, “Blue, glad you could make it.” Arms embraced her, giving her a firm bear-like hug. She swung her eyes up and saw Raditz, and returned the hug.

“Come, let me introduce you to some of my brothers. Also, not many of the Ol’ Ladies are here tonight. Well Chichi is somewhere, but we’ll get there later,” he said as he grabbed her elbow and led her over towards the pool tables. 

Swinging his arm out and pointing to each guy, Raditz began the introductions, “Here’s Tiny,” he said, pointing to a bear of a man, who was both as tall as he was wide, a wall of pure muscle. Making his given road name quite comical. “Then we’ve got Tank,” pointing to the next man who was just as tall, but looked like he could easily be a UFC fighter with his build, not to mention a scar running down his cheek, dipping under his jawline. How many fights had he been in? “Our VP is around here somewhere, probably with his Ol’ Lady, the one I told you about earlier,” he finished off.

“Nice meeting you all. Looks like I’m the clubs new attorney. Hopefully we don’t get too acquainted if you catch my drift,” she spoke softly, giving a warm smile as she turned to Raditz, “Speaking of which, where is his royal pain in the ass?” she sassed, placing her hands on her hips. Before coming in she did note, no police vehicle, so obviously it wasn’t a matter that required immediate attention. Unless he was held up at some precinct, but she was sure Raditz would’ve instructed her to meet there if that was the case. But, _this_ screamed like a rouse to get her here, so where was he?

Booming laughter came from the group of men as one of Rooster’s brows rose,” He’ll be along shortly. Let’s play,” he said, gesturing with a chin lift towards the pool tables. 

“You sure you want to lose today?” she teased as she walked over to the wall rack to grab a pool cue, before standing near the table, waiting for Rooster as he finished up racking the balls. 

“Ladies first,” he said with a wiggle of his brows and a charming smirk to follow. 

Bulma maneuvered herself around the table, studying the different angles before she picked one, leaning slightly over and making the first break, claiming stripes. These men probably thought with her flashy clothes and degree, she had no clue how to play the game, but little did they know she spent her college days in dives like these with her friends. 

She watched as Raditz approached the table to take his shot at solids, sinking the first and the second - missing the pocket by a smidge, but enough to block hers. 

Just as she stepped forward again to make her next shot with her hips brushing against the table, she went to bend down, but felt a presence move behind her, causing the pool stick to jump in her hand. A strong hand wrapped around her, settling on her stomach, before pulling her back against a broad chest. The smell of soap, leather and whiskey enveloping her senses, causing her body to naturally lean back, sinking into him. 

She felt his callused, yet warm hand, one that told the story of how hard he worked, running up her side, hitting her exposed skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. He moved her hair aside.

“Do you play?” he questioned with his lips resting against her ear, causing her to shiver against him. 

Did she play? Yes, a simple answer, but as he pressed closer against her, she felt his thick cock against her ass. He was doing this on purpose, wasn’t he? She wasn’t one to ever lose...but maybe this time. 

“No, would you teach me?” The lie slipped out between her lips so effortlessly. The need to know how far this game would go, outweighed her normal judgement. 

His chest vibrated against her back, indicating he was laughing and probably wasn’t buying her lie, but she didn’t care. So, what did she do? She slightly wiggled her ass against him. His reaction was instant, feeling him squeeze her hip harder. 

“Naughty Bulma. I need you to look at that yellow striped ball. Hit it just to the left so you can sink it to the far corner and line up your next shot, but you’re going to have to do something, hmm.” 

“What?” she said breathlessly, unsure if he even heard her over the loud music.

With his lips still pressed tightly to her ear, he husked, “Go down like a good girl.” With that her brain short circuited for a second, making her feel flush all over, but it was short lived because his hand that was previously resting on her shoulder was now guiding her down to the table, assisting her. Of course, she knew how to take the shot, so without further direction she sank it as well as the next two. 

When she popped back up against him, a hand snaked up between the valley of her breasts to her throat, applying a light pressure with his thumb and middle finger on the sides. “Who knew the little spitfire could be a good girl.” Before she could even react to an answer that both enraged her and had her pussy throbbing, he moved away from her and walked to the other side of the table, grabbing the cue from Rooster and nodding to the men. A silent command that had them walking off, leaving them alone at the table. 

“Winner gets whatever they want,” he stated with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth before he aims and takes his shot, sinking all his balls but the black one with ease. That one, his shot looked clumsily, purposefully giving her a chance. 

_Head in the game girl!_

She studies the balls that are left, a couple she’ll have no problem sinking, but others are in somewhat of a haphazard layout. Whatever, she has no choice but to win now. 

Moving around the table until she’s in front of him, she bends down and looks over her shoulder at him, “Watch,” she says cheekily as she gives another wiggle of her ass, airing more confidence than she felt. She strikes and sinks the ball, then onto the next two. 

Easy. 

As she is about to take her last shot and has a chance at the black ball, she makes the mistake of looking over at Vegeta, meeting his heated gaze. His hand that was hanging loose, is now at his crotch where he squeezes and runs it up his thick length, giving her a glimpse of what he’s working with. _Bastard._

It took everything in her not to salvate on the spot, but she was on a mission to win. Biting her lip, she goes to take the shot. A miss. _Fuck._

 _Well, two can play that game._ So she waits none too patiently, until he’s lined up for his last shot.

“Yanno Vegeta, I really like playing games with you and can’t wait to see what else you can teach me,” she says wantonly, taking the cue and sliding it between her breasts, then squeezes her arms together slightly. Then she rubs the pool stick up and down in an erotic display as he goes to make his next shot. And, he misses. 

A small giggle leaves her mouth as his eyes narrow at her display. Quickly, he throws the pool stick without care on the table and moves around the table towards her. 

Grabbing the stick from her hands, he too tosses it and then bends down against her body, his shoulder meeting her stomach and hands grabbing the back of her legs. He swings her up over his shoulder causing the air to leave her for a moment. “Lessons begin now. I hope you can finish what you started, because kitten, it’s going to be a long hard lesson.”

She tries to protest being carried off like some prize, because now it dawns on her the cheers of men around them, but it’s thwarted with his hand coming down against her ass, sending pleasure and pain coursing through her. She could feel her pussy clench with the promise of what would come next. 

Was she really doing this? _Hell yes._

Being upside down she can’t recall where he’s taken her. After a few turns and hallways, he must come to the door he wants because once they step through, he kicks it closed and then turns to lock it before striding over to the bed where he throws her down, her body bouncing on contact.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy. No other woman talks to me like you do, excites me like you do,” Vegeta says as he runs both of his hands through his hair, his onyx eyes focused on her form, devouring her completely and leaving her panting.

“I’m glad I could be your first,” she quips, hoping he picks up her not so subtle innuendo. Moving to prop herself on her elbows, she watches him prowl at the end of the bed like a caged animal. “Well,” her word causes him to pause and look at her, moving him to the edge of the bed where her heeled feet slightly dangle, “Aren’t you going to see if I can finish,” she wedges her foot between his thighs, and slides up, rocking her foot against his balls and base, needing a reaction from him, “you.”

_Challenge thrown._

A groan and curse is heard in the otherwise quiet room, before the bed dips on either side of her as he crawls onto it, caging her under his broad form. 

God, how she wished he would lose his vest and shirt. The way his muscles bunch against his shirt, left her curiosity unattended. Even the tattoos on his neck, dipping into his shirt, were just another thing tormenting her. 

His baritone laugh filled the room, before he sat back on his haunches above her, “It’s called a cut kitten,” he said, shimming it off as he reaches out and places it on his night stand. She realized she must’ve spoken her thoughts out loud, but then all thoughts cease as his hands slowly go to the bottom of his shirt, where his fingers hook into it and at an even slower tortuous pace than before, he begins to drag it upwards, revealing his caramel toned skin and a set of abs that gave way to his dedication for personal strength and discipline. His body was a living, breathing piece of art and all she wanted to do was run her tongue all over him, savouring his unique personal taste. 

Her hands fisted the sheets below as she imagined running her hands up his chest, or even through the patch of his treasure trail that ran from his belly button, deep into his pants. 

His shirt was then flung to a random corner of the room and there he was, in all his glory with tattooed sleeves coiling from each arm, onto his chest where they surrounded his pecs and ended there. 

Reaching up with one hand, she noticed barbells on either sides of his nipples, something she’d never had the chance to enjoy on a man before, but she was finding it was hot - it suited him. So naturally, she allowed the tips of her finger to graze over his pecs, at first massaging over them and occasionally touching the piercings. 

She noticed he leaned into her touch, allowing her to experiment with his body as she pleased. Taking it a step further, she sat up and her face aligned at level with his broad chest due to his bigger frame. She blew out against his left nipple and watched as it pebbled, then she leaned in and looked up at him innocently before sticking her tongue out flat against it and slowly swirled, while with her other hand she tugged at the piercing, gently. 

She heard the sharp intake of his breath and watched as his eyes dilated, she knew then she was having equal effect on him, causing her own pussy to drench further through her bodysuit. Still, the power this position was giving her had her head dizzy with desire, so she pressed forward. Closing her eyes and teasingly closed her teeth around the piercing, giving an experimental gentle tug.

“Fuckkkkkk.”

She gasped, letting go of his nipple as her body was pushed back into the bed, her arms held down by his hands before they were moved up and placed above her head.

“Be a good girl and don’t move.” 

A command she couldn’t, wouldn’t refuse.

Instinctively, her eyes rolled as her chest arched into him. She could feel the friction from the dampened body suit, but with his weight on her hips, she couldn’t rub and oh how she needed too. 

Teeth nipped at her ear causing her to cry out.

“I said behave, Bulma.”

Nodding, she let go, for the first time ever. She was always in control, from the time she was a young girl already setting out her path, to being in college, to the men she fucked, she knew how she wanted things, but with him, this greater instinct took over and she wanted to bend to his will. It both scared and thrilled her. So, she let go and stayed still and every nerve in her body was electrified with anticipation for his touch. 

His lips were suddenly at the lowest point of the deep V of her shirt and moving up, kissing and sucking at her flesh. 

“The things I want to do to you,” he murmured against her skin as his lips brushed between her breasts, “I want to,” he kissed and licked at her left breast, before moving to her right breast, giving it equal affection, “ruin you.” His hands worked at her straps, slipping them off her shoulders, before she felt the fabric shift, leaving her breasts swollen and aching against the cool air. Then the warmth of his mouth closed around her nipple, sucking deeply into his mouth as his tongue swiped at the tip. Then with a pop he let go and moved to the next breast, repeating his actions, leaving her a whimpering mess. 

She hadn’t even noticed that he moved up, until she felt his lips at her ear again, “Ruin you for every other man that comes after me. Leaving you aching for my cock and how full you felt, how empty you are without it. You should know I’m a selfish bastard Bulma.” he husked. 

She couldn’t even help herself as she arched into him, seeking his heat, seeking relief. “I need you.”

“Spread your legs,” he grunted out as a demand, with his hands suddenly roaming and groping all over her chest. 

Good to know his control was shattering too.

As she spread her legs against his own, he repositioned himself, nestling in between her thighs. She hitched her legs around his hips and instantly his hips were grinding down into hers, with his hard dick notching between her lips, putting a delicious amount of pressure against her clit. 

As she cried out, his lips slammed over hers, silencing her cries as his tongue wrapped around her own, frantically caressing it. 

Bulma gave in and moved her hands to his back, trying to draw him as close as possible, no doubt leaving marks from her nails, but fuck it, if he wanted to mark her, she would do the same, leaving an impression that wouldn’t leave long past these marks healed. 

Abruptly, a heavy knock sounded at the door, persistently until Vegeta pulled away snarling in anger. Timing was truly a bitch. Throwing one hand over her eyes and the other to half way concealing her breasts, she waited as she heard heated words passed through either side of the door before a final fuck was yelled. 

She sat up and looked at Vegeta storm to the corner of his room, gathering his shirt and shucking it on before he walked over and grabbed his cut. This caused her to jump up and slide her straps back on and adjust her breasts the best she could, the friction reminding her of her unsatisfied state. 

“I have to go. Stay here, the men shouldn’t bother you. I’ll be back and we can finish off,” he rushed out, walking over to her and grabbing the back of her hair, angling her to look up at him before he leaned down and kissed her, “Be good.” 

With that he left and she sat there taking everything in. Everything suddenly felt very real to her. What she was involving herself with, the life he led. Leaving at any moment's notice, and for what? He wasn’t a cop so it wasn’t exactly something that was heroic, now was it? But no, she had let her pussy lead her into this situation. She couldn’t lie, the attraction and chemistry between them was real, but she had to be realistic and now it was setting in. The need for control and to lead her way - the safe way. 

Her arms cradled themselves as she ran her hands up and down, then the need for a washroom hit her and although there were two doors in his room aside from the exit, she wasn’t about to snoop. So she decided her best bet would be to venture out, maybe Rooster would be around and help her find one. 

Looking around the hallway, she noted the music was getting louder again so she guessed she was near the main room and as she took a right turn down a hall she collided with a blonde busty woman who looked haggard. 

“Oh you’re Prince’s little flavour of the night. You aren’t supposed to be lurking around the hallways. Take your next left and you’ll be at the main room, see yourself out would you. He doesn’t like clingers,” the woman sneered before moving down the hall, away from Bulma. 

_That bitch._ Bulma had half a mind to go around and tell her she was no hussy. _What? Not a hussy?_ That would’ve been a lie, she knew half of why she came and what she hoped would happen. 

With her mind resolved. She made her way to the exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for following along with this story!  
> All the love that you've shown, is truly appreciated and fuels my passion to dive into the MC world and deliver new chapters.  
> It's unlikely I've have an update before Christmas, maybe before New Years, but either way please enjoy your holidays safely!  
> A thank you too, [Serena](https://twitter.com/serenasakura2) for beta-ing my work. She's such a gem.  
> Feel free to follow me on twitter for updates on this story and others.  
> [@GetasgirlX](https://twitter.com/GetasgirlX)  
> 
> 
> I just wanted to say a very special thank you to [Cowpoopies](https://twitter.com/cowpoopies) for making fanart for Chapters 1 and 2. I am still in shock and just so thankful for her generosity in making my words come to life in these beautiful pieces. Just knowing my words inspired her, wow. Again thank you, and please go show her some love on twitter! 


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